


Shape My Heart

by SykoShadowRose



Category: RWBY
Genre: Glass Art AU, Glass Blower Qrow, Stained Glass Artist Clover, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SykoShadowRose/pseuds/SykoShadowRose
Summary: When Clover was first drawn into the world of glass art by the glassmith Qrow, he never imagined he would be in the man house as a friend. He just wishes he could be a little bit more than just a friend.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Shape My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I DON'T EVEN KNOW!!!
> 
> Seriously, this came out of nowhere and I don't even know where it's trying to go! I may just switch this to completed and leave it as is...

Clover looked up from where he was seated on the steps of the converted basement, leaning against the wall while he worked. The shadows from the fire shifted across the scars decorating Qrow’s back as he moved, rolling the punty across the bars and using tools Clover didn’t know the names of to shape the forming glass to fit his whims. He dropped his eyes back to his sketchbook, adding a few more lines to the piece he was planning. An angel with dark wings hover over a small group of children, his wings spread protectively over them. The sides of the paper were filled with notations of what colors of glass he needed for which areas, how opaque or transparent he needed it to be. Small, important details to make reality fit the picture in his mind. 

The man in front of him was the inspiration behind his current piece. Just like he’d been the inspiration behind his first one. The brunette remembered being in high school and going to the art museum on a field trip to see an exhibit supporting the local artists at the college. The glass sculptures displayed with the name Qrow Branwen had been breathtaking. Clover hadn’t been aware of just how beautiful properly shaped glass could be until he’d come to the piece titled Harbinger. A life-sized crow, with feathers that seemed far too detailed to have been possibly shaped on fully spread wings, was landing on a branch. He’d thought, back then when he’d been such a clueless admirer, that the glass had been sculpted the same way stone was. It wasn’t until months later that he learned the sculpting happened while the glass was hot enough to be molded into different forms. That every little detail in the woodgrain and feet, in the wings and tails and beak, was carved before it cooled enough to be touched by bare hands. 

He’d known, once he learned the truth, that he didn’t have the skill set to make something like Harbinger. But he had been enchanted by the beauty of the glass artwork and wanted to work with it in his own way. His search for alternatives led him to the world of stained glass artwork. He was drawn in before his first class had finished. Clover’s first project had been a bird, though a much different one than the one who brought him to his new calling. He’d cut out a kingfisher gliding over a water-lily spotted pond at dawnbreak, the bird’s wings tipping up as it got ready to lift itself higher into the sky. He still had that one hanging in his home, with several others he’d grown attached to over the years. 

New movement called his eyes back to the raven’s slender form as he spun and twirled the bar, either controlling the temperature drop of the glass or using the force of gravity to shape it. Clover wasn’t actually sure, he just knew it was amazing to watch the graceful movements. He spent several long moments admiring the lean muscles work before he forced his teal eyes away. 

His work had earned him a place in the same exhibit when it had come around again a few years later. It was thrilling to see his name next to Qrow’s. The next time the exhibit had come around the two of them had been moved with the few scattered others who worked with glass to their own section. He’d admit that the other works were well done, but the only other artist that came close to taking his breath away the same way Qrow had was the artist Ruby Rose.

At the time the brunette hadn’t known that Ruby was Qrow’s niece and apprentice. In fact he hadn’t even known what Qrow looked like. The only reason the two of them had met at all was because of fate. Or Clover’s friend Harriet, who needed to get her car looked at and had asked Clover to drive with her so she’d have a ride after she dropped it off. The two blond mechanics had overheard him complaining to Harriet about how hard it was to find the right glass for his art (the payment he demanded if she was going to make him drive her around for her errands). It was the older, male, blond that had eventually wandered over to tell Harriet the estimate (for time and cost) but before they left he’d strangely told Clover to write down what kinds of glass he needed, being as specific as he could be, and when he needed it by. 

At the time Clover had been confused, but desperate enough to do it for even the _chance_ of getting the perfect glass he needed. 

Two weeks later he’d gotten a message from an unknown number that his glass was ready to be picked up. There had been a picture (they looked beautiful) with an address and time for pick-up. The house he’d arrived at had been an odd but perfect blend of gothic and rural. Horizontal black, wood panelling with red trim and shutters. The railing on the steps, porch, and the fencing had been white with red accents, a large Autumn barren oak in the front yard, not far from the dormant rose bushes below the windows. Walking up to the door (black with vines of red roses painted on) with as little information as he had was a serious test of his sanity that he hadn’t regretted failing for a single second. (Truth be told the house made it’s way into his work not long after that day. It was one of the glassworks he’d kept.) 

Clover hadn’t been sure what to expect when the door opened but the slender, slightly scruffy looking, raven haired man with the soft red eyes had not been anything close. It had taken the poor brunette a few awkward seconds to boot his brain back up after he’d processed just how attractive the slightly older (slightly shorter too) man was. Not that he’d expected someone ugly to answer the door, just that he found his host to be exceptionally beautiful. The gothic attire wasn’t a surprise though. Not with the design of the house, as much as that felt like stereo-typing and made him cringe internally.

It wasn’t until after he’d been invited inside to inspect the glass that proper introductions were made. Clover had excused himself to the bathroom in order to have a personal freakout at realizing he was in Qrow Branwen’s house. Judging from the way the older man was biting his lips and the fact that his shoulders were trembling with suppressed laughter, his freakout had not been as personal (or quiet) as he would have liked it to be. Still, the flattered flush on Qrow’s face that lasted for most of the meeting was good enough compensation for his humiliation, so everything was fine. Though there had been a brief argument about payment since Qrow had asked for far less than what Clover knew the glass was worth and had seemed upset when Clover tried to give him the amount closer to what he would have paid if he’d gotten it from his usual supplier. They’d ended up meeting somewhere in the middle, with Qrow feeling like he was overcharging and Clover feeling like he was taking advantage of the other’s generosity. Qrow had pointed out that if neither of them was happy with it then it must be a good compromise. Clover had laughed and asked why he’d charge so low to begin with. Qrow’s answer had been simple.

“Glass art is a small niche. We need to look out for each other.”

At their parting Qrow had told Clover to contact him if he needed more glass and Clover had promised he would. The younger man had kept that word, in a way. He’d contacted the elder when he needed a specific glass for a piece that he hadn’t been able to find anywhere else and he’d used up all the glass he’d bought from Qrow before. Hearing that Clover had been getting his glass from other sources had seemed to actually offend the raven and the brunette learned that Qrow meant to come to him for _all_ the glass he needed, not just special orders like he’d assumed. 

Clover smiled to himself as he recalled offering the glass blower a matching set of art, that was made from the glass he’d made himself, as an apology for cheating on him and a promise to come to him, and only him, for any further glass needs. Though Qrow still liked to tease him about seeing other (inferior) glass suppliers every now and then. The extended conversation from that day about the intricacies of their form of art was where he’d learned about Ruby’s connection to Qrow after Clover had commented on her work in the gallery. Thankfully everything he’d had to say had been positive or he might well have been maimed. Qrow was very protective of his family and anyone he cared about, which is what had prompted the work currently in his hands. 

His nieces had been playing with their friends beneath the oak while Clover had been talking to Tai and Qrow on the porch, the former two on the bench swing the blond had recently installed and the latter perched on the railing. He couldn’t remember what he and Tai had been talking about but they had been so deep into the conversation that they hadn’t even noticed when Qrow leapt off the railing. The two men had heard the screams and the screech of tires and rushed down the stairs to see Qrow and two of the girls sprawled on the ground. Penny and Pyrrha had gone outside the fence to retrieve the frisbee that had been accidentally tossed into the road and neither of them had noticed the speeding car. Qrow had seen it though, and had not only jumped down from his porch but vaulted over the fence to tackle them both out of the way of the vehicle. Thanks to the man’s quick actions, the two hadn’t suffered anything worse than some scrapes from the asphalt. 

Clover closed his eyes against the thoughts of what could have been as they tried to rise up. They were safe and it would do them no good to imagine what would have happened without Qrow to protect them. Teal eyes looked up as Qrow walked towards him, lifting a bottle of water to his lips. “Done for the day?”

“Yea. Current work is in the annealer. Just gotta close up everything else.” Clover nodded as Qrow went back to his workspace, going through the familiar motions of shutting down for the night. Clover left him to it and shut his sketchbook, making his way upstairs to order something for them to eat. By the time Qrow was finished and had wandered into the living room after a quick shower, Clover already had everything set up for them. 

Qrow turned on some random cooking competition for background noise and asked Clover about what kind of glass he needed for his new art piece. That was something Clover had noticed about the glass blower. He never asked about the piece itself, only what Clover needed for it. The artist appreciated the respect shown, giving him the option to share only what he wanted without feeling pressured to say more than he was ready to. Sometimes Clover told Qrow exactly what he was doing but he wanted this one to be a surprise gift, so he smiled and told him the kinds of glass he’d need to do his art this time. When night fell and it was time for him to go home, Clover found himself lingering as he often did. Helping clean up and finding little things to do so he wouldn’t have to go just yet. Eventually he ran out of things to do (he always did) and finally made his way to his car, desperately wishing he and Qrow were more than just friends so he would have a reason to ask to stay longer.


End file.
